


The Aeroplane

by Dancezwithwolvez



Series: The Power of Being Loved [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Dont copy to another site, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Mycroft is a Softie, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sibling Rivalry, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24114700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancezwithwolvez/pseuds/Dancezwithwolvez
Summary: Mycroft contemplates about a grey haired DI.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: The Power of Being Loved [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1739944
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	The Aeroplane

**Author's Note:**

> A thousand hugs to Lavender_and_ Vanilla for being a wonderful and an amazing beta. 
> 
> Thanks to Mrs_Crowley for helping me with the title of the series.

Mycroft landed in England, weary and tired. The mission had long gone south and multiple attempts to salvage it had left him exhausted and craving for human companionship, particularly one single man. A silver haired Detective Inspector. Gregory Lestrade. But who was he kidding? The DI was too polite to decline whenever Mycroft called him out for drinks under the pretense of discussing Sherlock. Sherlock was a long forgotten topic and it had gradually moved from books, movies, and music to hopes and dreams. 

Gregory, he had discovered, to no one's surprise was a die hard romantic. He loved everything soft, everything sweet. He loved love. He loved people in love. Mycroft was sure that a cold hearted ice man could never even make that list but somehow Gregory found it in him to spare him some affection. He had tolerated every one of Mycroft's idiosyncrasies with a smile so gentle, that even a butterfly's wing couldn't hold its worth against it. 

Gregory would listen to him rant about a particularly horrendous rendition of opera for hours. Gregory would listen to just almost anything that Mycroft would say. And he was a very attentive listener as well. Mycroft had once tested him and he had fared very well. Gregory was well capable of holding up his own end of conversation but instead, he chose to  _ listen _ to Mycroft. It was one amongst the many things that had allured him to Mycroft. 

In the initial days of their "friendship" ( came as a surprise to Mycroft when Gregory, one day had offhandedly referred to him as his friend ), they used to meet once a month, which gradually progressed to twice a month and then it had reached a stage where they would meet each other almost every week. If a particular week had turned out to be an absolute monster, they would meet at each other's house. Usually it would be Gregory's house, but occasionally it would be Mycroft as well.

Mycroft loved Gregory's house. It wasn't sterile clean like his but neither was it a garbage dump like Sherlock's. It was warm, cozy, bright and reminded him of his grandmother's cottage. The one place before Gregory's where he could truly be himself. 

Gregory was his best friend. His only friend. (Anthea could be counted as a friend but she was his employee and he was sure that Anthea would not consider him as her friend)

It had come as a total surprise to Mycroft when he realised that he had fallen for his best friend. His feelings wouldn't be reciprocated so he wouldn't share them out loud as he was afraid of losing Gregory's friendship. It was the one thing that he treasured in his cold existence. 

This mission of his had kept him away from his Gregory.. _ His Gregory!? Where did that come from? Control yourself, Mycroft.  _ Kept him away from Gregory. He had missed him rather fervently. They had managed to exchange messages but still Mycroft missed him, missed his boyish grin. The nights at Moscow seemed long, far too long. Putin didn't help at all, rather aggravated his longing for the handsome, sensible man, who currently would be cursing his brother and his doctor "roommate" for leaving him with a pile of paperwork. A smile crept up on Mycroft's face when he remembered the last time Gregory had complained to him about the innumerable boxes he had to fill out on the computer, on a keyboard which was not  _ at all _ conducive to his stubby fingers. 

_ " Give me your fingers, Myc. Mine are a total waste of space, unlike yours. Look at it, Myc", saying that he held out his fingers for Mycroft to review.  _

_ Mycroft barely managed to stifle his laughter and schooled his expression to a more serious one. He held the calloused hands in his own soft ones and pretended to look at it.  _

_ "Gregory, I am sorry to say this, but I fail to see your point. These fingers seem perfectly functional. They help you hold cigarettes, restrain Sherlock from jumping into the Thames, do you wish for me to go on?"  _

_ "You know, you are an absolute bastard", Greg gave him that smile. He dare say it was fond.  _

_ "What did I do to deserve such a colourful word?"he asked 'i _ _ nnocently'. _

_ "You are really asking me that, as if  _ you _ don't know. Come on, now tell me how was your week."  _

Mycroft released a sigh, a sigh that sort of released the tension he had accumulated the entire month. He would finish the debriefing quickly, not that there would be much to debrief. He would also have to be debriefed by Anthea who had gone to Putin's counterpart in America. He hoped hers, unlike his, had been a successful trip. Mycroft estimated that it would take 3 hours to be done and then he could meet Gregory. 

_ I have just landed at Heathrow. The debriefing starts in an hour. I hope to meet you tomorrow at 7 pm, at your place, if you don't mind. MH _

His mobile pinged immediately.

**There is a coffee and a surprise with your name on it. Come outside, Myc. Won't take long Myckie.**

_ Gregory!? What are you doing outside Heathrow?!?!?! MH _

_ P.S. What is the surprise? _

**; ) It wouldn't be a surprise then, would it?**

Mycroft had informed Gregory days back, when he would come back but he never expected him to actually remember and come to the airport to meet him. Gregory had said that he had a coffee and a surprise for him. He couldn't contain his joy. But sadly it would have to be cut short.  _ Oh how he wanted to spend the night with Gregory. If only people would understand. Well, it wouldn't hurt to try, would it.  _

He sent out an email to Lady Alicia Smallwood asking whether he could take the night off today, as he was coming down with a severe headache.  _ The headache was true, he had just lied about the magnitude.  _ The minute after he had sent his email he got a call from Lady Smallwood, sanctioning him his leave and a rather stern command to take his ass off directly to his bed, when he reached home and not bother about the next day's specifics. He left Heathrow with a smile so wide that even a Cheshire cat couldn't hold its candle up against. 

He fired off a message to Anthea asking her to meet him tomorrow at the Diogenes for the briefing. 

Her questions about his well being were left unanswered when he saw the silver crown amidst the crowd of other non- silver crowns. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
